


it would cost you a groaning to take off my edge

by lieanni (orphan_account)



Category: ATEEZ (Band)
Genre: Cock Cages, Degradation, Dom/sub, Exhibitionism, Feminization, Handcuffs, Humiliation, M/M, Nipple Play, Oppa Kink, Overstimulation, Sex Toys, Slapping
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-20
Updated: 2020-07-20
Packaged: 2021-03-04 17:49:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,286
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25390399
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/lieanni
Summary: “You like that, do you? The idea of Wooyoung seeing you like this?”The grin hasn’t left Seonghwa’s face, but his gaze is alarmingly dark, and San knows that he’s really in for it this time.
Relationships: Choi San/Jung Wooyoung, Choi San/Jung Wooyoung/Park Seonghwa, Choi San/Park Seonghwa, Jung Wooyoung/Park Seonghwa
Comments: 35
Kudos: 286





	it would cost you a groaning to take off my edge

**Author's Note:**

  * For [whiskybusiness](https://archiveofourown.org/users/whiskybusiness/gifts).



> The jimin to my wooyoung, the hamlet to my horatio, the pikachu to my ash ketchup, the md to my zs, the !! to my,,.
> 
> I’ve gushed about how much I adore you and your writing all over ao3 and twitter so I will (try to) refrain from doing so here. In any case, thanks for whacking me over the head with Sanhwa!! And tearing me away (not really, obviously) from Woosan!!! I really hope you’re happy with yourself!!!!! see: begrudging fluff, drabble, pain, overthinking, teen angst, em loves cas, what else is new

The moment San closes the door behind him, Seonghwa surges forward and pins him against it, fingers closing over his throat.

San’s eyes flutter closed in momentary bliss; the choking noise he lets out is genuine, given how much pressure Seonghwa is putting on his throat, but it more adds to than takes away from his enjoyment. He lets out a quiet whimper, knowing how much that shit riles Seonghwa up. Then, given that Seonghwa still hasn’t sent him straight into subspace or otherwise fucked him brainless, San takes some time to contemplate the whole situation.

Nine times out of ten, when San gets too touchy with Wooyoung for Seonghwa’s taste - which, really, is most of the time - _this_ will happen. The moment they get back to the dorms, Seonghwa will fuck him until San feels vindicated blaming Seonghwa for any missteps he makes in their choreo the next day. Of course, both of them know that Seonghwa isn’t _actually_ mad. The older had made that plenty clear the first time this had happened, being extra sweet during aftercare and ensuring San that, no, he was not mad that San and his best friend were so close. As always, with most things when it came to San and Seonghwa, it was just an excuse for them to have a good fuck. San knew this from the get-go - after all, Seonghwa _adored_ Wooyoung. Not as much as San did, but then again, no one adored Wooyoung as much as San did.

“So thirsty for cock that you’re willing to get it from anyone, hmm? You fucking _slut_.”

There it is. Usually, at the start of these _sessions_ , so to speak, Seonghwa mentions Wooyoung briefly - though never by name, since San and Seonghwa both know what this is about. It’s a bit ridiculous, really, and San thinks that it’s quite adorable that Seonghwa feels the need to set the scene like this. Still, he wonders what it is that stops Seonghwa from actually _saying_ Wooyoung’s name. Perhaps he thinks that it’ll ruin the mood by rubbing San the wrong way.

Before he can ponder the subject further, Seonghwa is prying San’s lips apart, fingers running lightly across his teeth, before ramming his cock into San’s mouth with such intensity that San loses his train of thought. Between the gurgling and the attempt to relax his throat to take in the entirety of Seonghwa’s length, San really doesn’t have the capacity to dwell. Still, the topic lingers in the back of his mind; San decides that he’ll think about it after Seonghwa’s done with him. If he’s feeling awake enough after this, maybe he’ll even ask Seonghwa about it.

Turns out San doesn’t have to, because for the first time ever, Seonghwa _does_ mention Wooyoung by name. He happens to do it just as San’s brain ceases to function in its regular capacity, so fucked out that the only thoughts that still hover are _yes,_ _fuck,_ and _more_ , of course all adorned with “Oppa, please,” at the end because San isn’t feeling particularly bratty today. 

“What would Wooyoung say if he saw you like this? So wrecked and so eager for Oppa’s cock?”

San’s brain goes momentarily blank, malfunctioning as it tries to process Seonghwa’s words. And then it does, and San feels the heat coiling in his stomach _double_ , and he was pretty fucking close to the edge already but that still doesn’t justify how quickly he’s pushed over. He’s clawing at the white sheets below, entire body trembling, and even San isn’t sure how to qualify the high-pitched whine that rips from his throat. He’s cumming harder than he has in days, maybe even weeks. San wants to say that he doesn’t know why, but he _definitely_ does, and to his great (mis)fortune, now Seonghwa knows, too.

As soon as San regains clarity, he scrambles to prop himself up on all fours, having collapsed onto the bed during release. He braces himself for impact - surely, Seonghwa is going to punish him for cumming without permission. Still, the harsh sting on his ass is never realized, and with some reservation, San rears his head to look at Seonghwa.

It must’ve been a minute since San orgasmed, and still, Seonghwa’s face registers only surprise. A knowing smile dances on his lips, and San swears that he can hear the gears of Seonghwa’s brain turning.

“You like that, do you? The idea of Wooyoung seeing you like this?”

San would have denied had his cock not already given him away. Don’t get San wrong, he thinks he has great stamina, but not like _this_. Even he’s shocked; how the fuck is he already getting hard again?

When San looks up at Seonghwa again, the grin hasn’t left the older’s face, but his gaze is alarmingly dark, and San knows that he’s really in for it this time.

\---

When San asks Wooyoung if he’d like to fuck him while Seonghwa watches and maybe joins in, Wooyoung thinks that he’s dreaming. 

Wooyoung actually pinches himself to double check that it’s not just an impressively realistic wet dream. San raises his eyebrows at the gesture but doesn’t comment on it, eyes hopefully trained on Wooyoung’s face as he waits for an answer. Wooyoung coughs, feeling the blood rushing to his face (impressive, given the blood that’s also rushing southwards). He sputters for a few moments before realizing that he probably won’t get any words out. So, Wooyoung just nods, perhaps a bit too eagerly. San grins and pulls Wooyoung in for a hug, and Wooyoung quickly re-angles himself so that the tent in his pants doesn’t rub up against San’s leg.

San fills Wooyoung in on the details - there’s not many; Wooyoung knows only that it’ll happen tomorrow, it’ll be after vocal practice, and that Seonghwa will message him the rest of what he needs to know.

Indeed, he gets a text from Seonghwa later that night, informing Wooyoung that he’s requested for their vocal lesson slots to be swapped. Now, Wooyoung will go after San but before Seonghwa. Seonghwa tells Wooyoung that he doesn’t have to worry about planning or preparing anything - Seonghwa’s gotten everything ready, and Wooyoung just has to show up. The “see you tomorrow! :)” at the end of Seonghwa’s message is oddly unsettling, and Wooyoung clears his throat, hoping to stem the heat rising to his cheeks.

\---

Wooyoung wakes up the next day buzzing with anticipation. It carries over to morning dance practice, where he’s even more hyper than usual, bouncing from step to step with unparalleled enthusiasm. The members notice, and most of them attribute it to the two cups of coffee Wooyoung downed in the morning; he can tell from Seonghwa’s smirk and San’s lingering gaze, though, that they favor a different explanation.

As soon as practice is over, Mingi pulls Wooyoung to the convenience store with him to try out a brand of ramen that he’d been eyeing, and then the two take a much-needed nap in the company lounge. Then, it’s time for Wooyoung to head to vocal lessons, and he’s anxious the entire time, jostling with energy. Thankfully, his nervousness doesn’t show and the lesson is over soon enough. After he thanks the trainer and exits, Wooyoung’s surprised to see Seonghwa sitting outside of the room. The older perks up when he hears the door open and greets Wooyoung with an easy smile.

Seonghwa gets straight to the point. “Given how everyone’s schedules lined up today, there was no way that we’d get the dorm to ourselves, so I went ahead and booked us a hotel room.” Seonghwa hands Wooyoung a jet-black keycard that screams luxury; the decadence further piques Wooyoung’s restlessness. “The address is on the back. San’s already expecting you, so just go directly to the room. I’ll join the two of you in about an hour and half, after my lessons are over. And, let’s see, what else...”

“Oh, also, I wanted to give you this,” Seonghwa says, handing Wooyoung a remote. Wooyoung’s confused, but realization dawns on him seconds later when he reads the buttons on the instrument. Seonghwa grins at the way that Wooyoung fidgets; Wooyoung utters a meek word of thanks and tucks the remote into his pocket.

\---

Like the keycard, the hotel is a sleek pinnacle of opulence, and Wooyoung can’t help but be flattered that his participation is worth this much to Seonghwa. Wooyoung gives himself a mental pat on the back for having the good sense to change before catching a ride to the hotel; his sweatpants would have offered a bleak, conspicuous contrast to the suits donned by nearly every other person he sees in the hotel lobby. Wooyoung can feel his palms prickling with sweat as he gets into the elevator, and the fact that one wall of the receptacle is entirely just a mirror doesn’t help ease his nerves. He fixes his hair, doing his best to arrange the messy strands into a somewhat plausible imitation of what the stylists usually do.

The elevator dings when it arrives at his floor, and Wooyoung is both duly intimidated and impressed by the deafening silence that sweeps the hallway. Wooyoung surmises that it’s only logical that a hotel of this caliber has superior sound cancellation, and concurrently gets an inkling of why Seonghwa was willing to splurge. 

A short walk brings Wooyoung to the suite corresponding to the number etched onto the card. Before proceeding, he - in a rather ineffective bid to calm himself down - closes his eyes and takes a deep breath. Then, he swipes the key, turns the door handle, and enters the room.

He quickly closes the door behind him, slamming it, really, as shock settles into his system. Wooyoung figures that _nothing_ could have prepared him for what he’s seeing now, and he can’t even blame himself for the way that his jaw drops open.

The lustrous metal that cuffs San to the bed catches the light brilliantly, exquisitely complemented by the silver that encases San’s cock, and _fucking hell, Wooyoung can already feel himself getting hard._ San looks absolutely stunning - he always does, but today, it takes Wooyoung’s breath away. His eyebrows are furrowed and his eyes half-lidded, face flushed a pretty pink that tinges the swath from his chest to his ears. As San twists up against his restraints, his back arches off the sheets; he’s not trying to get away, it’s as if he’s fighting himself for control. Wooyoung’s brain is so focused on drinking in the sight that it takes him another second to register the noises filtering through the room - soft whimpers that are accompanied by a muted buzzing, and _oh_ , there’s a vibrator up San’s ass.

Wooyoung ghosts a hand over the remote in his pocket; it doesn’t seem like San has noticed him yet, but Wooyoung knows exactly how to get his attention. He presses the up button, and San immediately writhes. He turns his head to the doorway and gives Wooyoung a gaze already so wrecked that it makes Wooyoung’s throat run dry. San whispers out his name, but it's broken by a moan; his restraints clink as he attempts to reach out for Wooyoung, the noises followed by a high-pitched whine once he remembers that he’s bound. Wooyoung suddenly realizes how warm it is in the room, most of the heat undoubtedly emanating from San. He shrugs his jacket off before making his way over to the bed, placing the remote on the nightstand next to it. Up close, Wooyoung can see the thin sheen of sweat on San’s forehead and that which dips into his collarbones. He’s absolutely gorgeous. 

“Please,” San whimpers, straining upwards as best he can, and Wooyoung meets him halfway, crashing their lips together in a kiss that draws an open-mouthed moan from the older. As if he’s parched for water, San sucks desperately at Wooyoung’s tongue, whimpers non-stop as he surges forward. Wooyoung realizes that, in their current positions, the metal must be digging into San’s wrists, so he pulls away momentarily. San pouts at the loss, but it's replaced by a look of curious excitement as Wooyoung slips his shoes off and sits himself completely on the bed. Wooyoung adjusts to hover over San, one hand propping his weight and the other coming to rest fondly against the older’s cheek.

He leans in and San’s immediately as eager as he was before, arching to get better access to Wooyoung’s mouth. Wooyoung realizes that San - subconsciously, probably - is trying to push his body flush against Wooyoung’s, needy for friction, and smirks into the kiss; he rolls his hips purposefully, and San cries out. Enticed by San’s reaction, Wooyoung does it a few more times, each time eliciting a delicious moan from the older. By the time that Wooyoung decides he’s done enough teasing, San is a whimpering mess below him, face completely flushed and chest heaving with exertion. 

Wooyoung sucks a mark into San’s neck before trailing soft kisses down to the older’s chest. San twists upwards when Wooyoung closes his mouth over one of San’s nipples, rolling the bud carefully between his teeth. Finally, Wooyoung turns his attention to San’s cock, and with a start, he realizes that the cage has a lock on it. He looks up at the San, question clear on his face. 

“Seonghwa has the key,” San says, and his words trail into a whimper when Wooyoung nips at his inner thigh. San lets him continue for a few more moments before _thrashing_ , shoving Wooyoung’s head up with his knee. Wooyoung lets out a small whine of complaint, but the crease between his eyebrows vanishes at the look on San’s face.

San’s gaze is dark, lower lip pulled between his teeth; his eyes flit over Wooyoung’s face, and Wooyoung can only gaze unabashedly back at him, completely enraptured. 

“Are you going to…?” San asks, spreading his legs purposefully. Wooyoung grins at him; he wants to hear San say it.

“Am I going to what?”

San pouts. It’s erased by the way his lips part when Wooyoung reaches over to the nightstand and thumbs at the remote; the buzzing in the room gets louder, but it’s no match for the cry that rips out of San.

“Are you going to fuck me?” San asks, voice dripping with need. Wooyoung tilts his head at San and presses the remote again, and it's enough to get the older to bend.

“Please, _please_ fuck me,” San cries, “Need your cock inside of me, _please_ , Woo.”

And who is Wooyoung to deny him, when San asks so beautifully? Wooyoung climbs back up the bed, hovering over San as he leans over and pulls out the first drawer on the nightstand. San lurches forward and nuzzles at Wooyoung’s forearm, continually letting out whimpers in a bid to get Wooyoung to pay attention to him. Wooyoung, preoccupied with his search, stuffs his fingers into San’s mouth to get him to quiet down; San’s all too eager to wet them, and the fervency with which San sucks at his fingers isn’t lost on Wooyoung’s cock.

Finally, Wooyoung finds what he’s looking for. He seats himself back onto his knees, tube in hand, and pops open the cap. He dribbles some onto his fingers, then looks back up at San. Surprisingly, beyond the lust etched into his features, San has managed to pull together a look of skepticism.

“What?”

“I’ve literally had this vibrator in for, like, an hour, and you still think that I need to be prepped?” San asks, breaths shallow.

Wooyoung shrugs. “You never know.”

San lets out a breathy laugh. “Oh, Woo, you’re too nice to me.” San stills against the bed, contemplating something. He’s panting, now, the sensations all swirling together in his head, and his eyes are dark when he peers back at Wooyoung. “Now, please, would you just _fuck me?_ ” 

San’s request is followed by a sharp intake of breath as Wooyoung pulls the vibrator out. Wooyoung marvels at the way San’s hole twitches, clenching haphazardly, before inserting a finger. San’s right - he doesn’t really need to be prepped _at all_. Within seconds, Wooyoung’s thrusting three fingers in, and still, San is pushing down against him, begging for more. 

“Please, Wooyoung, it’s not enough,” San whines, cuffs clinkering noisily as he writhes against the sheets. “Need your cock, need you - need to be filled”.

San trails his tongue over his lower lip, buzzing with anticipation, as he watches Wooyoung pull his pants down, discarding them somewhere off the side of the bed. His mouth actually _waters_ at the sight of Wooyoung’s bare cock, his entire body flaring with need.

“Please, please, please,” San chants, and he keeps it going even as Wooyoung finally sheathes himself inside. The pleads are broken, now, but the sensation of being filled is absolutely _divine_. San had dreamed about this on many occasions, but the real deal was somehow infinitely better, particularly when Wooyoung angles in _just right_.

The noise that San lets out is nothing short of strangled; the breath hitches in his throat and disappears under a fresh cascade of moans, each louder than the last as Wooyoung thrusts into him relentlessly, fueled by San’s cries.

“Fuck, Woo, so--nngh!” San’s praise is lost as Wooyoung picks up speed, and tears prick at his eyes as the pressure in his stomach builds. Still, it coils to no release, because _Seonghwa has the fucking key_. Wooyoung’s hips stutter, and San peers down at Wooyoung, puzzled about the change.

If he wasn’t so annoyed at the fact that Wooyoung stopped, San would smile at how adorable the look of concern on Wooyoung’s face is. “It’s fine,” San reassures him, wishing so badly that he could reach out and touch Wooyoung, but _guess where the fuck that key is too_. Still, Wooyoung doesn’t move, hands resting gently against San’s thighs.

San almost rolls his eyes. If this is the extent of Wooyoung’s roughness with him, then boy is Wooyoung in for a fucking treat when Seonghwa gets back. It frustrates San that he can _feel_ Wooyoung holding back, so he very purposefully clenches, eliciting a groan from the other. 

“I swear to god, if you don’t start moving again, next time, I’m just going to ask someone else—ah!” Before San can finish the thought, Wooyoung pushes into him, somehow going even faster than he was before he stopped. It feels so _good_ but so terrible at the same time, because San is so fucking close but has absolutely nowhere to go. Soon enough, Wooyoung is nearing his own release, his moans a beautiful complement to San’s high-pitched cries. Wooyoung feels _so good_ , and it frustrates San to no end that he can’t even show his appreciation, just a limp, useless toy on the bed for Wooyoung to fuck into until Seonghwa finally arrives. 

Wooyoung releases into San, and San feels so deliciously full that he cries out, cock twitching pitifully against its confines. Wooyoung’s grip is bruising on San’s hips as he cums, and San clenches around him, body trained to take everything that he can get. The sudden tightness causes Wooyoung to groan, and San’s heart flutters at the sound, taking it as praise. San wants so badly to please - he was _made_ to please, and even though Wooyoung has just cum in him, he wants _more_.

So, the instant Wooyoung pulls out of him, San starts blabbering anew. “Can I suck you off? Please, please, can I?” San sticks his tongue out in fervency, craning his neck as if it’ll bring him any closer to Wooyoung’s cock. He looks plenty stupid, he’s sure, tongue lolling out uselessly, but San can’t bring himself to care. “Want, need more of your cum, please.”

Wooyoung looks stunned, to say the least, but he’s spared from answering as the sound of the door unlocking resonates through the room. San perks up immediately, and he beams at Seonghwa when the older steps inside. Seonghwa quirks an eyebrow at him, looking from San to a very flustered Wooyoung.

San doesn’t waste a single second. “Oppa, could you please undo the handcuffs? I was going to suck Wooyoung off, and I think I could do a better job if I weren’t tied to the bed like this.”

Wooyoung balks, first at the term that San uses to address Seonghwa and second at the way the phrase comes so casually out of San’s mouth, as if he were merely asking Seonghwa to help him set the table or hand him the TV remote. Seonghwa looks at Wooyoung, and it takes him a moment to realize that Seonghwa’s waiting for his opinion. Wooyoung just nods, not exactly trusting himself to form words at the moment. 

“Alright, then, doll,” Seonghwa sighs, walking over to the head of the bed and pulling a delicate silver key out of his pocket. San stretches upwards to nuzzle at his arm, and he’s immediately met with a slap that has both San and Wooyoung flinching.

“Wooyoung being nice to you doesn’t mean that you can forget your place with me, bitch,” Seonghwa warns, and San lets out a small whimper in response. Seonghwa turns the lock and the handcuffs twirl and fall down onto the bed. San sighs contentedly, bringing his arms to his chest, but falls silent at the glare that Seonghwa gives him.

San sits up on his knees as Seonghwa makes his way over to the recliner that’s angled with a full view of the bed. He sits down and crosses his legs, bringing both hands to rest on his knee. San peers at him over Wooyoung’s shoulder, waiting for instructions. “Well? Suck him, slut.”

Wooyoung’s surprised that San doesn’t falter one bit at the harsh bite of Seonghwa’s words. If anything, San’s more excited than ever as he looks at Wooyoung. Really, there’s no better way to encapsulate San’s duality than the cute head tilt he gives Wooyoung before diving hungrily for Wooyoung’s cock, practically gagging himself on the length from the get-go. 

Filthy slurping noises fill the room as San gurgles around and chokes on Wooyoung’s cock. Wooyoung thinks that it’s incredible how much San is enjoying this - the older’s eyelashes flutter closed momentarily, and he hums in delight around the length in his mouth. Despite the pleasure that courses through his body, Wooyoung has a moment of clarity; afraid that San’s going to strain himself too much, he presses a hand to San’s head, softly nudging him up. San only presses down further, taking Wooyoung’s length impossibly deep, and Wooyooung can’t help but fist a hand in his hair, head thrown back at the way San’s throat constricts around him.

He’s not sure how much time passes before he’s at the edge again, but Wooyoung figures it couldn’t be long given the rate with which San is going at it. He gives San a word of warning, and San acknowledges Wooyoung by somehow swallowing him even deeper. With a grunt, Wooyoung releases into the back of San’s throat, and the vibrations of the moan that San lets out eases Wooyoung through his high. 

Wooyoung recovers quicker this time, suddenly aware of the feeling of Seonghwa’s eyes boring into him. San is still on his cock, lapping at it and savoring every drop that falls onto his tongue. Wooyoung’s hips stutter at the overstimulation; it’s a few seconds before San considers his job finished, at which point he sits back and stares at Wooyoung, a satisfied grin adorning his face.

“Manners.”

San’s expression falters. “Sorry, Oppa,” he says, looking down at his hands before looking back up at Wooyoung. “Thank you, Wooyoung.”

Wooyoung smiles at him and cups San’s face with one hand. The older leans into his touch, shy smile prying at the corner of his lips.

“Wooyoung.”

Wooyoung turns to face Seonghwa, afraid that he’s done something wrong. The older’s gaze is scarily intense, and Wooyoung half-mindedly wonders if Seonghwa is going to slap him, too.

“Do you think that San’s been a good boy?”

Wooyoung has a suspicion that it’s a trick question. But he does think that San has done wonderfully - Wooyoung just came twice, and he’s already raring for a third round. “Yes, San has been a good boy,” he affirms, but he draws back a bit at the way that Seonghwa’s eyes narrow.

San lets out a delighted giggle at Wooyoung’s praise, but it’s lost in his throat as Seonghwa’s calculating gaze shifts to focus on him. Wooyoung holds his breath as Seonghwa gets off the recliner and walks over to the bed; he exhales only when Seonghwa walks past him and halts near San. He bends down and roughly grabs San’s chin, forcing the younger to look at him, and Wooyoung can only look on, entranced.

“Really? Because I think that he did a fucking _terrible_ job sucking you off.”

San looks absolutely crestfallen, and Wooyoung feels a tug at his heartstrings; still, Seonghwa’s expression remains cold.

“Isn’t that right, you useless whore?”

San nods furiously before Seonghwa’s hand makes contact with his cheek, a sharp sound resounding through the room on impact.

“Use your words, slut.”

“Yes,” San whimpers, tears welling up at the corners of his eyes. “I’m sorry, Oppa, I did a horrible job.” He turns to Wooyoung and gives a similar apology, bowing so deeply that his forehead touches the mattress. 

Seonghwa twists his hand in San’s hair and yanks so that San faces Wooyoung, wide-eyed, and Wooyoung suppresses a groan. San looks beautifully wrecked, eyes and lips puffy and pink, shades of red blooming across his cheekbones and torso. Spit trails at the corner of his mouth, and his eyes are glazed over with want.

“That’s more like it.” Seonghwa releases him and San slumps back onto the mattress, sprawled in front of Wooyoung. His head grazes Wooyoung’s knee, and Wooyoung shifts forward to let San’s head fall onto his lap. San lets out a grateful sigh, peering up at Wooyoung through tear-soaked lashes. Wooyoung runs a hand through San’s hair, looking fondly down at the older boy. He peers forward a bit, and grimaces at how uncomfortable the cage looks; San’s cock strains against the confines, now colored a deep purple from denial. Deciding to try his luck - _that cage must be fucking miserable_ \- Wooyoung turns his head to address Seonghwa.

“Do you think you could take the cage off of him?”

Wooyoung feels San tense against his thigh. 

“No, it’s okay, I—”

Seonghwa lets out a dark chuckle, cutting San short. “Sure,” he says, alarmingly nonchalant. Seonghwa uncrosses his legs, and Wooyoung expects him to get up, but Seonghwa just leans his elbows on his knees and makes a beckoning motion with his hand.

San immediately bolts up; he gets off the bed regularly enough, but then he’s instantly on all fours. He crawls his way over to Seonghwa and rests his chin on the edge of the chair, between Seonghwa’s legs.

“Get up and turn around.”

Immediately, San gets up and does so. His arms hang awkwardly at his sides, and the cock cage bobs up and down with his sudden movements. San’s legs are quivering, and Seonghwa shoves a knee up between them that draws a wail from San’s lips. San stumbles a bit, but manages to keep himself upright; he’s breathing hard, chest rapidly undulating.

Seonghwa gets up behind San, key in hand. San flinches back a bit as soon as Seonghwa’s fingertips make contact with his skin, and in response, Seonghwa wraps a hand around San’s throat. The other stills, though he’s whimpering endlessly as Seonghwa drags his fingertips hypnotizingly slowly down San’s sides, all the way to the cage at his front. San’s entire body jolts as Seonghwa carefully unlocks the contraption, and he lets out a wail when he’s finally freed from it.

San’s left light-headed from the sudden dispersion of blood, and he wobbles for a few seconds before gathering himself. San’s already at full hardness, and Wooyoung stares on, slack-jawed. 

Seonghwa grins at Wooyoung’s reaction. “Impressive, isn’t it?” 

“Yeah,” Wooyoung breathes, awe-struck.

“And now, for his next act,” Seonghwa says, “Our Sannie will show us just how much of a slut he really is.”

San’s face flushes with shame at the fact that Seonghwa’s presenting him like he’s a _fucking showpiece_ , and he tries his best not to fidget, but its difficult because all he can think about is how hard he is and how badly he wants to cum.

Seonghwa brings a hand up to San’s chest and San lets in a sharp inhale, bracing himself for what’s to come. He’s twitching as soon as Seonghwa’s fingers ghost along his chest. Then, Seonghwa closes his hands over San’s pecs and _squeezes_ , and San’s moaning and Wooyoung’s mouth falls open at the sight and now San isn’t sure how to tell arousal apart from embarrassment, because both fan the other’s flames until San is a whimpering wreck in Seonghwa’s arms.

“You love it when I squeeze your tits like this, hmm? Such a dirty little whore for your Oppa and for Wooyoung. Do you like it, knowing that your best friend is seeing you like this?” Seonghwa flicks at San’s nipples a few times before pinching the hardened nubs between his thumbs, eliciting a sharp inhale from the younger. He presses his lips against San’s ear, “I bet you want Wooyoungie’s mouth on these pretty little tits, don’t you?”

San cries out in affirmation, a broken _yes, fuck, please_ spilling from his lips, and Seonghwa kneads with one hand and tweaks at one of San’s nipples with the other and the thought that San is going to cum from just this makes him want to cry with embarrassment but _fuck,_ it drives him crazy.

“You know the rules, though, doll - no cumming until I say so, okay?”

Everyone in the room knows that it's unfair, can see how _broken_ San already is, but what choice does San have? He agrees, and Seonghwa doesn’t give him any relief or escape from his own burning shame, just keeps flicking and nipping at San’s chest until San’s so on edge that tears stream openly down his face. 

“Oppa, ah, please, I can’t hold it,” San begs, tripping over his own sobs. 

Seonghwa, of course, doesn’t let up. “But I haven’t given you permission yet. Are you such a pathetic little whore that you’re going to cum without Oppa’s permission?”

San shakes his head, choking out a jumbled response, already too far gone to register anything that Seonghwa is saying. As if Seonghwa can sense just how close he is, the hands on his chest abruptly move away, but it's already too late; San knows that he's going to get punished, but he just can’t hold back, and it's only a few seconds before he’s seeing black, vision becoming static as he _finally_ cums.

Seonghwa digs his finger into San’s slit mid-release, and San cries out at the sensation, thrashing with frustration at the ruined orgasm. Seonghwa lets him writhe for a second, but soon puts San in his place, pushing the other over so that he tumbles onto the ground, twitching uselessly against the floor.

“Get up.”

San can still barely see or think straight, but his body reacts on reflex; he picks himself up off the floor, his elbows nearly buckling, and presents himself on all-fours, cock dangling uselessly spent between his legs.

Seonghwa presents a cum-stained hand to San, and San knows what to do. Without hesitation, he laps at Seonghwa’s fingers, taking them between his lips and sucking, the bitter tang of his own cum flooding his mouth. 

“Fuck,” he hears Wooyoung breathe, and though San just had one of the most intense orgasms of his life from just _getting his nipples played with_ , his cock rises a bit at the other’s exhalation.

Seonghwa suddenly jams his fingers forward, the tips pushing against the back of San’s throat; San gags but pushes forward. Seonghwa laughs, tone disparaging, before bringing his other hand up to shove San off. San stumbles backwards, dazed; he subconsciously trails a tongue around his mouth, checking if there’s any cum left for him to swallow.

“Turn around and show Wooyoung,” Seonghwa commands, and San pads around to face Wooyoung. He tilts his head back and opens his mouth wide; Wooyoung can see his throat still constricting.

“Wooyoung, what do you think? Is it clean?”

“Uhm, yeah,” Wooyoung responds, and Seonghwa smiles dangerously.

“Aw, did you hear that, slut? Wooyoung is still so nice to you even though you’re such a useless whore.” 

Seonghwa's face shows disdain, but his eyes flicker with excitement, and he grips San by the neck before pulling him up and tossing him onto the bed. San’s left sputtering from the action, but Wooyoung can _see_ that San loves it, eyes glazed with arousal. 

“Let’s see, what should your punishment be?” Seonghwa muses, mostly to himself. “It’s such a shame that our precious fucktoy couldn’t follow some simple instructions, or else maybe he’d get the cock up his cunt that he wants so desperately. Too bad.”

Wooyoung hears San let out a small whine, and he’s anticipating some sort of retaliation on Seonghwa’s part. Still, it never comes, because Seonghwa happens upon an idea that has him grinning, a glint in his eye that makes Wooyoung shudder.

“Wooyoung, could you bring me the handcuffs?”

As Wooyoung moves to retrieve the silver links, Seonghwa gets up and walks over to the glass desk at the far edge of the room. He pulls the chair out and brings it back near the bed, placing it opposite the recliner, also angled to face the mattress. 

He holds his hand out to Wooyoung, and Wooyoung hands him the cuffs.

“Thank you,” Seonghwa says, though his gaze is fixed entirely on San, who’s still trembling on the bed, eyes wide. Seonghwa places a hand on the chair and snaps his fingers, and within seconds, San is seated, hands fisted in his lap with so much strain that his knuckles turn white. 

Seonghwa grabs one of San’s arms and twists it behind the chair; San doesn’t need to wait to be told to mirror the action with the second one. The harsh sound of metal scraping wood resounds as Seonghwa tests the restraints. Once he’s satisfied, a smirk appears on his face, and he walks over to the bed.

Wooyoung shifts to make room for Seonghwa, and the older sits down next to him. He leans in, face just inches away from Wooyoung’s. “Are you good to go now?”

Wooyoung gulps, and he can faintly hear a whine from the direction of the chair. Between the dark wash of lust in Seonghwa’s gaze and the way the older runs a tongue over his bottom lip, really, he’d agree to anything Seonghwa is saying. “Yeah, I’m ready.”

Seonghwa smiles, grin saccharine, and leans over to the nightstand. He fishes for a few moments, but doesn’t seem to find what he’s looking for. The pout that pulls at the corner of Seonghwa’s lips is precious, though it's an odd contrast to the ferocity of his stare. Wooyoung suddenly realizes what Seonghwa is looking for. He pushes a hand under the sheets and retrieves the lube, then holds it out to the older. 

“Thank you, Wooyoung,” Seonghwa says, taking it from him. “What a smart boy.”

Wooyoung’s surprised by how naturally he takes to the praise, a grin immediately blossoming on his face. He hears San whimper sadly. 

“And you, dumb bitch, can shut the fuck up,” Seonghwa snaps, and San falls silent. Wooyoung looks from Seonghwa to the tube in his hand, then gestures to himself. “Are you..?”

“Oh,” Seonghwa laughs. “Am I going to fuck you? No. ” Wooyoung lets out a sigh, unsure whether it tells more of disappointment or relief. Seonghwa grins at him, one hand popping open the cap and the other coming to caress Wooyoung’s cheek. “Maybe next time.”

Wooyoung tilts his head in curiosity, and out of the corner of his eye, he sees San fidget. If Seonghwa isn’t going to fuck him, what does he have the lube out for? Really, the answer is obvious, but Wooyoung’s brain can’t get over the hurdle, making the executive decision that the conclusion would be too much for him. Still, the inevitable plays out, and Seonghwa lifts an eyebrow at the wonder in Wooyoung’s expression.

“Are you going to help me, or are you just going to watch?”

The strangled noise that San lets out catches Wooyoung’s mind up to what’s happening, and he’s still in disbelief as he crawls over to Seonghwa and undoes the older’s zip. Wooyoung moves as quickly as he can, discarding the garments on the floor. He’d braced himself for it, but Wooyoung still lets out a muted gasp when he comes eye-level with Seonghwa’s cock. He instinctively swallows, the bob of his Adam’s apple caught by the older, who lets out a chuckle.

Wooyoung’s already motioning to close his mouth over the tip before his brain catches up to him. He raises his eyes to meet Seonghwa’s, asking for permission. The older smirks. “As much as I’d love to see your pretty lips wrapped around my cock, I got the lube out for a reason, you know.”

Wooyoung takes the tube from Seonghwa, and the older props his legs in a way that gives Wooyoung easier access. It also gives San full sight of what’s happening, but he doesn’t say a word, as if he’s also held in silent awe of what’s unfolding before him. Wooyoung squeezes a hefty amount of lube onto his fingertips, and when he smooths a finger over Seonghwa’s hole, the other groans. It’s encouragement for Wooyoung to continue, and he hesitantly pushes a finger in.

Seonghwa’s _so_ tight, and Wooyoung bites his lip as he slips in another digit, scissoring Seonghwa open. Seonghwa’s eyes are shut tight, brows furrowed in concentration, chest rising and falling rapidly. Wooyoung leans forward and places a soft kiss to his forehead, and Seonghwa’s eyes flutter open at the sensation. 

“Keep going,” he prompts, voice strained but surprisingly gentle. Wooyoung continues; with some effort, he fits a third finger in. Seonghwa begins pushing back down on him, bottom lip pulled between his teeth and breathy moans sounding through the gap. Seonghwa groans as Wooyoung's fingers brush against the bundle of nerves inside him, sending a jolt of pleasure running up his spine.

“Ready?” Wooyoung asks, and Seonghwa peers up at him, eyes half-lidded, and nods. When Wooyoung pushes in, the heat is _suffocating_ , the tightness engulfing him drawing a groan from his lips. The sound is accompanied by a drawn-out moan from Seonghwa, whose eyelids again fall shut; his hands fist at the sheets below them, curling and pulling them upwards.

Even with the surprise roll reversal, Seonghwa’s penchant for control shines through. With a rough heave to Wooyoung’s chest, Seonghwa switches their positions. Wooyoung falls onto his back, and Seonghwa places a palm to the bed to brace himself as he sinks down onto Wooyoung’s cock. Wooyoung slides his hands up the soft flesh of Seonghwa's thighs before settling them on his hips, gripping tightly as he thrusts upwards to meet the older. Seonghwa doesn’t give Wooyoung the satisfaction, instead propping himself up and setting an achingly slow pace, reveling in the needy moans that he’s able to draw from the younger; Seonghwa smirks, knowing that even in this position, he has the upper hand. 

Still, Seonghwa’s only human, and though he enjoys the rise he gets out of Wooyoung - letting Wooyoung slip out of him entirely only to sink down just a bit, so that Wooyoung can never quite get enough - the heat is starting to get to Seonghwa, too. He starts to give in to his own desires, sinking down lower and lower until Woooyung completely bottoms out. A part of Seonghwa is somewhat disappointed in himself, annoyed that he got riled up by his own teasing, but then Seonghwa angles downwards so that Wooyoung hits his prostate _just right_ , and he no longer gives a single fuck.

A breathy moan tears from his lips, and Seonghwa allows himself to get lost in the pleasure, bouncing on Wooyoung’s cock at an angle that hits the spot inside of him each time. Wooyoung swallows at the sight before him, and his mind clears enough to realize that he can make even more out of the current situation. In the spur of the moment, Wooyoung gathers the energy to hoist himself up, flipping Seonghwa over so that his back lies flat against the bed, head nearly dangling off the edge.

The sudden flow of blood to his brain leaves Seonghwa stunned for a few seconds, and the haze that crawls into his vision magnifies as Wooyoung starts pounding into him relentlessly, hips snapping at a speed that has Seonghwa gasping, and Seonghwa can’t even bring himself to care that he’s no longer in control because it feels so fucking _good_.

Seonghwa looks absolutely stunning, and heat coils at the pit of Wooyoung’s stomach at the thought that he’s able to reduce Seonghwa to _this_ \- a twitching mess on the sheets below him, back periodically arching to expose the exquisite column of his neck. Wooyoung leans forward and sucks at the expanse, and he’s met with a gratuitous moan that encourages him to slightly sink his teeth in, shading the region in pinks and reds that promise of blacks and blues. San is wailing behind them, begging for attention, but both of them are too engrossed to care.

Only when Wooyoung warns Seonghwa that he’s close does Seonghwa seem to snap back to reality. He places a hand on Wooyoung’s forearm, bracing himself and straightening up to peer over Wooyoung’s shoulder at San. At Seonghwa’s breathy laugh, Wooyoung turns to look, and his breath catches at the sight.

San is an absolute _wreck_. His pupils are dark and blown wide, eyes narrowed and gaze carnal in a way that makes Wooyoung shudder. San is leaned forward as far as he can be without toppling the chair over; the way he strains against his restraints has his chest flushed in effort, adding to the colors that already bloom there. His cock leaks against his stomach, dark red, and pre-cum pools down onto his thigh. San’s whimpers haven’t ceased, and his lips are bitten and torn from his own doings. When Wooyoung makes eye contact with San, he swears that the older actually _growls_ at him. 

“Lovely, isn’t it?” Seonghwa sighs, turning Wooyoung’s attention back to the bed. “As much as I’d love for you to finish inside me, I don’t think San would be very happy about that.” Seonghwa pauses. “I do have a great alternative, though.”

Wooyoung raises an eyebrow, and Seonghwa grins knowingly up at him. He reaches out and pats Wooyoung’s thigh, and Wooyoung shifts back. He groans as he pulls out of Seonghwa, the other’s walls clenching as if reluctant to let him go. For a moment, Seonghwa looks dazed, but in a few seconds, he’s up on his feet. He walks over to San, and the latter’s whining increases in volume as Seonghwa trails a finger from San’s cheekbone to his chin, pushing to tilt his head up.

“What, upset that Wooyoung gets to fuck your Oppa?”

And this time, Wooyoung’s sure that San growls, the intensity of the sound visibly shaking his entire frame. 

“Do you think that a cockslut like you could do a better job?” San looks conflicted, but the desire in his eyes doesn’t wane. Seonghwa slaps at his cock, and the tip oozes precum as San shudders with pleasure. “You’re just a useless cocksleeve, how could you please anyone with your pathetic little cock?” Seonghwa accents his last words by stepping on San’s cock, causing the other to let out a sharp cry and thrash wildly in the chair. He continues twisting as Seonghwa applies more pressure, taking evident glee in the other’s wails. “You like that, bitch?”

“Yes, nngh, Oppa, so good,” San moans, panting open-mouthed. Just like that, Seonghwa stops, and San whines at the loss. Seonghwa clicks his tongue at San. “God, you’re such a fucking slut.”

Seonghwa fetches the key from where it had fallen onto the floor, then steps behind San and uncuffs him. “All fours on the bed, now.”

San scrambles on the bed, then turns to face Seonghwa, waiting for his next command. His ass is up in the air, on full display for Wooyoung, and Wooyoung marvels at the fact that some of his cum still stains San’s hole. 

“Do you want to fuck his throat or his pussy?”

Wooyoung blinks at the question. _Both_ , his mind supplies; Wooyoung shakes the stupid answer out of his head and goes with his next best option. “You can pick.”

Seonghwa smirks. “You’re the guest of honor, it’s only fair that you pick first.”

During this entire exchange, San is whimpering. A fresh wave of shame crashes over him at the fact that he’s literally been reduced to a hole to fuck into. At Seonghwa’s warning glare, San shuts up and tries his best not to rub up against the sheets beneath him.

Seonghwa sees that Wooyoung is still hesitating and offers a suggestion. “Personally, I think that fucking his face is pretty nice. You can really see how much of a slut he is when he’s gagging on your cock.”

Wooyoung figures that he can’t lose either way, and since Seonghwa was kind enough to give a recommendation, he’ll go along with it. He gets off the bed, swapping places with Seonghwa. As soon as Wooyoung stands in front of him, San surges forward and takes Wooyoung’s cock into his mouth. Just as before, within seconds, he’s practically impaling himself on Wooyoung’s length, cheeks hollowed out as he sucks with renewed fervor. Seonghwa’s right, San looks absolutely lovely like this; spit gathers at the corners of his lips, and he’s drooling openly over Wooyoung’s cock. 

Wooyoung didn’t think that San could take him in even farther, but he’s proven wrong when Seonghwa suddenly pushes into San from behind, the thrust lodging Wooyoung’s cock deeper into San’s throat. As Seonghwa rams into him from behind, effectively gagging San on Wooyoung’s length, San sobs and moans around Wooyoung. San’s own cock rubs pitifully against the sheets, but with the sensations from all ends, the little friction is enough to make him cum.

"God, you’re such a cockslut for us, hmm? So fucking _filthy_.” San’s given no time to recover as Seonghwa continues thrusting into him, pace even quicker than before. Neither him nor Woooyung have cum yet, a fact that brings a shame that fuels San. He does his best to push forward and then back, the thrusting in his ass and mouth out of sync and confusing as he tries desperately to accommodate both. 

The overstimulation makes San want to scream, and tears drip down his face onto the sheets below. Still, he doesn’t stop, he _can’t_ stop, he wants to be filled. And he’s going to be filled, mouth _and_ pussy, and the thought is so exciting that it makes San drool, adding even more slobber to Wooyoung’s length.

Wooyoung’s fingers thread through San’s hair, and the only warning San gets is the feeling of his best friend’s grip tightening and yanking him forward, impossibly deeper, before Wooyoung’s releasing into his throat. San’s all too glad to swallow, revelling in the taste. He keeps sucking even when Wooyoung has nothing more to give him; Seonghwa’s right, after all - San’s a greedy whore who wants, who _needs_ more.

He gets it when Seonghwa cums, stripes painting San’s insides, and San moans at the sensation. It’s a bit difficult, given that Wooyoung’s cock is still lodged in his mouth, and San sucks lazily at it as Seonghwa grips his waist, hips stuttering as he finishes. Seonghwa pulls out of San, and San whimpers at the feeling of Seonghwa’s cum trailing out of him, desperately clenching to keep as much of it in as possible.

Wooyoung pulls out of his mouth, too, and San wants to cry at how empty he feels, but his body is spent. All he can do is collapse onto the bed and make the most out of what he’s been given, mind barely-there as he clings onto the sensation of Seonghwa’s cum in his ass. 

“Fuck, that was so good,” he sighs, eyelids fluttering closed. The words come out a bit broken from how hoarse and fucked out San’s throat is, but San wants to let Seonghwa and Wooyoung know how grateful he is. He faintly hears Seonghwa chuckle, and he feels fingers - Wooyoung’s, probably - carding softly through his hair. The bed shifts as one of them gets up, but before San can voice his complaint at the loss of warmth, Seonghwa returns. He moves deftly, cleaning San with a warm towel. Before San knows it, he’s curled up nicely in Seonghwa’s lap, eyelids drooping with a comfortable sigh. Drowsily, San realizes that something is missing; he reaches around blindly for Wooyoung, eyebrows furrowing in effort. The younger laces his fingers with San’s, and San pulls him closer, stretching out so that his head rests on Wooyoung’s thigh. 

San wants to ask about when the next time will be, but drowsiness from exertion overtakes him, and he figures that the question can wait. Tucked contentedly between Wooyoung and Seonghwa, he drifts off into an easy, fulfilled slumber.


End file.
